


A Comprehensive Guide to Getting Over an Ex: a 90-Step Program

by charlieboyyyyyy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Character Study, Homophobia, M/M, Parenthood, Sad with a Happy Ending, currently being edited bc idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 10:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlieboyyyyyy/pseuds/charlieboyyyyyy
Summary: It's been almost a decade since Kent and Jack have been together, but Kent still seems to be hung up over him. When Kent's teammate notices, he decides it's about time they hit up a club together to get laid.What's the worst that could happen?





	A Comprehensive Guide to Getting Over an Ex: a 90-Step Program

Practice is always grueling. Days when Kent isn’t sweating and aching are a miracle--he constantly thanks his lucky stars that he gets a paycheck that allowed him to splurge on massages from time to time. When he heads to the locker room, he makes a beeline for his hockey bag. The rest of the guys are chatting in the background as he pull his phone out.

 

He’s got a text from his mom about Bella's birthday plans. A snapchat from his younger sister, Allie. He checks that first--it’s a video of their family dog, Nina, a nine year old dachshund, aggressively licking Allie all over her face.

 

Allie never told him she arrived at home. Kent doesn’t know when she did, or how her third year of college was going, but he supposes they’ve all been very busy, Allie with college and internships and future, and his mom with Bella and her job as a kindergarten teacher.

 

Rhyder looks over Kent’s shoulder to look at his phone. “Tell your sister that she owes me Nina time.”

 

Kent snorts. “Didn’t realize she was your dog.”

 

Troy walks up to Kent with a furious face plastered on him, his brows scrunched up, his lip in a frown. “I’m gonna fucking kill Carl,” he snarls.

 

Rhyder and Kent both roll their eyes simultaneously. They’ve both heard of the infamous Carl’s douchebaggery, but they’ve yet to somehow witness it. “What’d he do this time?”

 

“Said it was girly to use body wash. Like fuck you, man, sorry I wanna fucking smell like something other than sweat and dried cum from jacking off alone in my room.”

 

“Oh, sick burn, dude. Tell that to your mom.” Rhyder holds up a flat hand, and Kent begrudgingly high fives him.

 

“You guys wanna hang at my place tonight? I’ve got fucking, like, craft beer. My sister gave it to me because she thinks I have ‘a woefully ignorant palate when it comes to booze.’” Troy rolls his eyes but still looks at them expectantly.

 

“Yeah, man, we’ll go.”

 

Kent hits Rhyder. Tonight was the night he was going to drunkenly scroll through Tinder and hookup because nothing says,  _ I have a problem _ like booze and sad, drunk blowjobs. But apparently friendship is more important.

 

“What?”

 

“I was gonna hook up tonight.”

 

Troy and Rhyder burst out laughing. “With who?”

 

“Yeah, you haven’t gotten laid in forever, man,” Rhyder says, his eyebrows raised.

 

“Dunno. Like, on Tinder?”

 

Troy shakes his head in disapproval. “God, no. Girls take forever on those things. My sister says she and her friends have a rule to not hook up with someone unless they’ve been talking for week. If you wanna hook up, like, now, you needed to have started, like weeks ago.”

 

Kent sighs into his hands, knowing this is a losing battle. Besides, he needs to not have a hickey for when he takes pictures for his  daughter’s sister’s 10th birthday after the game coming up in Boston.

 

“Fine, I’ll join you guys.” Kent shrugs as a text comes in from his mom. 

  
  


**Mom** ( _ sent at 11:51 am _ ): Bella’s very excited to see you.

 

**Kent** ( _ sent at 11:51 am _ ): I hope she likes the gifts I got her.

 

**Mom** ( _ sent at 11:52 am _ ): It’s not a puppy, right?

 

**Kent** ( _ sent at 11:52 am _ ): Two dogs? I’m not that mean.

 

**Kent** ( _ sent at 11:52 am _ ): I kinda wanna bring her home.

 

**Mom** ( _ sent at 11:53 am _ ): To Las Vegas?

 

**Mom** ( _ sent at 11:53 am _ ): Talk to me about it when you get here.

  
  


“Sorry, my mom’s trying to do Bella’s birthday plans.” Kent looks back up at them.

 

“Can we come now? I’d rather drink now.”

 

“Yeah, man, let’s go.”

 

They end up at Troy’s apartment and drink, watching sports highlights and  _ Cops _ reruns. While they’re flipping through channels, Kent has to pretend to not give a shit about going past  _ Million Dollar Listing _ and  _ Real Housewives _ because he’s a Real Man who doesn’t give a shit about girl things like that  except he absolutely does and he lives for petty drama like that .

 

Kent’s tipsy, not drunk enough to do something stupid, but enough to do something he might be afraid to do otherwise. And so when they turn music on after getting sick of TV, he manages to get out, “Wait, no, no! Don’t change it!” when Britney comes on.

 

“...Baby One More Time” comes on, and Kent has to sing along. He doesn’t have a choice. “If you turn this off, it’s a hate crime.” He hopes the guys don’t put two-and-two together from that statement because he’s a pretty privileged white dude, if not for the gay thing, but he’s buzzed enough to not care.

 

“Parser, you’re fucking drunk.”

 

He winks at them, pointing in their general direction from across the room. His arms get a little bit looser, and his hips have a bit more sway, and his voice gets progressively higher pitched as he gets drunker. His sister calls him a drunk gay, which, like, is totally offensive, but she’s not wrong. “Just tipsy,” he corrects, his hand resting on his hip that’s cocked out.

 

The chorus comes on, and the other boys join in drunkenly yelling the lyrics, and Kent decides dancing  _ and _ singing to Britney is objectively in the Too Gay category and hops on Troy’s couch. 

 

He hates how much of himself the other boys don’t know. They don’t know who he is. They’ve never known who he is. They’ve known the toned down captain, but as much as it sucks, at least he’s safe.

 

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t hates how fake he is. Even drunk Kent Parson has to think about what sober Kent Parson would do. More often than not, the two don’t coincide.

 

“I feel like picking up,” Rhyder declares loudly, as he often does when he gets drunk. “I wanna meet a nice lady and get my dick sucked--I’m not asking for a lot.”

 

“You’re fucking drunk,” Troy objects.

 

“Fuck you, Swoops.”

 

Kent chuckles. “Rhyder, when was the last time you got laid?”

 

“For-fucking-ever ago, Jesus.”

 

So that’s how they end up in a bar near the Vegas strip, a couple of rookies tagging along with their fake ID’s that Kent pretends he’s too drunk to see, but he definitely does. 

 

They’re watching a game on the TV, pretending they don’t notice the lingering eyes on them. Vegas isn’t a hockey city, but the people there also aren’t dumb. If a bunch of large, beefy men ramble into a sports bar, demanding to watch the a hockey game and yelling about the Bruins and how they’re gonna kick their ass, people can generally put two and two together.

 

That’s how a girl ends up sitting next to Kent on the last available barstool. She’s got a pixie cut and hoop earrings, long legs accentuated by black leggings and high heel boots. There seems to be no one accompanying her, but then out of the corner of his eye, he notices her trying to secretly giggle at a group of girls standing against a wall.

 

“There’s a game tomorrow in Boston, right?” she asks Kent, gesturing at the TV doing playbacks of the hat trick the Sharks managed against the Kings.

 

Kent nods. “Yeah, Aces versus Bruins.”

 

“I don’t watch hockey, but--” And Kent’s already tuned out, but he gets bits and pieces. Her name’s Kate. She’s a PhD student. Her friends are here for a bachelorette party, and she’s the only single one in the group (largely due to schooling).

 

He takes her back to his place and tells her not to leave any hickies on his neck because that’s tacky, and she’s trying to suck him off, and it just… won’t go up. Maybe he’s not in the mood. Maybe he’s not attracted to her. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

 

He apologizes and asks her to leave, so she awkwardly collects her things while Kent stares at the blank white wall. He normally doesn’t have trouble. Granted, he normally thinks about Zimms when he has sex, but that’s just because…

 

Kent really can’t think of a logical explanation for that. That’s because they’ve had sex? That’s because he’s been thinking about Zimms since the day he started playing for the Aces? Because he can’t help but compare everyone to Zimms and his soft assurances and quiet grunts because Bob and Alicia were downstairs watching a movie and he swore they couldn’t hear them?

 

**Rhyder** ( _ sent at 11:35 _ ): *thumbs up emoji*

 

**Swoops** : ( _ sent at 11:45 _ ): dude!!!!

 

And so after the game in Boston, Kent rents a car and drives all the way down to Samwell because all his thoughts are about his friend. His best friend.  _ Jack’s close to Boston. Jack likes this cologne. Jack always wanted a car like this. Jack hasn’t picked a team yet; the manager told me they wouldn’t mind a Zimmermann.  _ Jack, Jack, Jack.

 

He spends a good time with Jack’s friends before his angry glare becomes too much, and they end up in Jack’s room upstairs.

 

“Why are you here?” Jack demands.

 

“Wanted to see you.” Kent shrugs.

 

“No, why are you  _ here _ ? It’s your daughter’s fucking birthday tomorrow, and you’re  _ here _ . At a frat house.” Jack’s not angry; he’s calm, cool, and collected, and that’s honestly the scariest Jack there is.

 

“Wanted to talk about what you’re doing next year.” Kent makes his way closer, gently resting his arms on Jack’s hips. Jack flinches.

 

“I just… I guess I haven’t thought about it?” Jack sighs, looking away.

 

“You have no clue?” Kent bites his lip, desperately hoping that Jack says what he wants him to say.

 

“I mean, it could be Montreal, it could be L.A. Okay? I don’t know.”

 

“What about Las Vegas?” At this point, they’re chest to chest, and suddenly, Kent feels Jack’s pulse spikes as he rests a finger on Jack’s wrist. “With me?” he whispers.

 

“I-I don’t know, okay?”

 

Kent doesn’t know who initiated it, but they’re kissing like they’re aching for each other. Except this one feels different, this one feels  _ wrong _ , this one doesn’t have the fire and the passion all the others had years ago. This feels like Kent has his lips against a statue--they’re there, and they’re real, but it’s cold, and it’s fake, and he feels himself reeling by how different it actually is.

 

Jack pushes. “Parse.” Kent’s breathing heavy, dazed by the sudden change. He leans in again, only to be denied  _ again _ , and--“Kenny, I can’t do this.”

 

And suddenly, he sees red. “Jack, come  _ on _ .”

 

“No, I--uh.” And clearly the look on his face is enough for Jack to get mad, too. “Kenny--”

 

They argue back and forth for what feels like hours. It feels like it’ll never end. And Kent knows this isn’t going well, so he finally decides to admit that he can’t stop thinking about him, that he’s got a stupid fucking nineteen year old kid that overdosed stuck in his head.

 

Except they’re both 25, and Kent knows that--he  _ does--but _ he still doesn’t know a life without Jack and it’s been six years, and Kent can’t breathe. He’s being choked by whatever this is, and Kent always said Jack Zimmermann would be the death of him, but not like this--not when he can’t even talk about it to anyone, not when he can’t move on. “I miss you.”

 

“You always say that.”

 

And Kent knows it’s over. Because Jack doesn’t love Kent; he never did. And Kent knows that now. And so it all bleeds out of him, out of the gaping wound in his heart, and he knows he cuts Jack, too, but he doesn’t care--because Jack obviously deserves it, because Jack’s the bad guy, because Jack. 

 

(The rational part of his brain knows that’s not true. They never called themselves boyfriends. They never kissed outside of sex, or making out, or heavy petting. They were fuckbuddies, and Kent just threw himself into it because it was the only way he’d ever get close to Jack. But he can’t take responsibility, not yet.)

 

And then that stupid blonde twink that Jack was so obviously flirting with is sitting there outside of the doorway, picking up a key, and Kent just storms out and drives all the way to New York. He’s not angry by the time he’s home, but he can’t help but sob into his mom’s arms while Allie stands off to the side, watching nervously.

 

Bella comes bounding down the stairs, and Kent tries to put on a good face for her. He knows how pathetic he looks. He  _ knows _ .

 

“Dad?”

 

His mom looks up. “Honey, I thought you were asleep.”

 

“I waited up for Dad.” Bella pauses. “Is Dad okay?”

 

“Yeah, Dad’s okay.” Kent nods.

 

“Is it because you lost?”

 

Kent laughs in spite of himself, pulling her into a hug. “Yeah, sweetpea.”

 

“Losing doesn’t mean you’re bad,” she mumbles into his chest, her arms wrapped around him.

 

“I know, it was just really hard.” He kisses her forehead.

 

When he tucks her in for bed, she’s still wide awake. “You lied.”

 

“I didn’t want Grandma and Aunt Allie to know.” Kent nods, looking away. Despite not living together, Bella seems to have an intuition for all things Kent.

 

“Well, you can tell me,” she assures him in her ten-year-old way.

 

Kent considers it, but he knows it’s a bit much for a child, so he decides to pare it down a lot. “Bella, do you know what gay means?”

 

“Like gay marriage?” she whispers.

 

“Yeah, some people like boys, and some people like girls,” he explains.

 

“Gay people like boys, right?”

 

“Well, gay boys like other boys.”

 

“So there’s gay girls, too? And they like girls?” He nods. “Oh, okay.” Her eyes light up. “Dad, are you gay?”

 

A lump forms in his throat. “Yeah, I think so.”

 

“Does that make me gay? Since you’re gay?”

 

He laughs, the nerves escaping. “Not necessarily.”

 

“You let people know, right? So I’ll let you know. If I am.”

 

“Okay, Bells.”

 

Her eyes are struggling to stay open, but she’s trying her hardest. Kent’s lips curl into a soft smile. “Dad, when can I live with you?”

 

It’s a question that’s been brought up a lot. For starters, the media thinks she’s his sister, so that would be a problem in and of itself. Secondly, Kent’s bachelor pad is not well equipped to house a child--and he’s pretty sure Las Vegas isn’t the greatest place either. But he wants to have more than Skype calls and Christmas and birthday visits, and so does Bella.

 

So as a birthday gift the next day, he hands her a flight ticket to Las Vegas for Christmas that he bought a month ago, and she hugs him excitedly. It’s the first time he doesn’t feel so lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to rewrite it because I didn't like the pacing idk I'm sorry
> 
> I hope you like it!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I'm writing Kent so please let me know how I did!!
> 
> I listened to Miss You by Louis Tomlinson on repeat while writing this first chapter I honestly think it adds to the Ambience of this fic I highly recommend giving it a listen
> 
> (Also I know it's all sad rn but I promise Kent V. Parson will walk down the aisle with the man of his dreams so help me God - It's What He Deserves)
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
